Mai's Choice
by Winter Ashby
Summary: Mai remembers the day she saw Zuko get his scar. [Zuko & Mai] Onesided.


**Title:** Mai's Choice**  
Author:** Winter Ashby _(rosweldrmr)_  
**Disclaimer:** Avatar the Last Airbender © Michael Dante DiMartino & Bryan Konietzko  
**Rating:** T (for violence)  
**Summary: **_Mai remembers the day she saw Zuko get his scar_. (Mai & Zuko) One-sided.  
**Authors Notes: **Yes, you read the summary correct, that says Mai & Zuko, NOT Katara & Zuko :hides from the hordes of Zutara fangirls: Just give it a try okay? This is all told from Mai's perspective about the say Zuko got his scar. I thought it was an interesting way to examine Mai's character, and why she acts the way she does. Let me know what you think.

* * *

Mai remembers the day she saw Zuko get his scar. She snuck into the arena, because her parents told her she was too young to attend. But she was rebellious, even at 9 years old. And nothing to could stop her from trying to get to Zuko, before it was too late. 

Azula sat at the far end of the arena, way up high, in the throne. There was a vicious grin covering her face and Mai wanted to hurt her. She wanted to slap Azula and make that pompous, evil leer disappear. She wanted to make her cry, like Mai felt like doing.

There was a ball of fear that swirled in her stomach and as she stood at the entrance of the arena, and glared at Azula for a second, the ball tightened. Then, she pushed forward, into the wall of people packed into the dueling arena to see the prince fight his own father.

It seemed as though the only person who didn't know about it, was Zuko.

Mai squeezed her way through the crowd, pushing bodies aside. One of her buns snagged on someone's armor and was pulled loose, yanking, ripping, tearing at her black hair. But she just pushed, pried the people apart. Her tiny hands insistent and frantic.

There were murmurs, whispers in the air. She didn't listen. All Mai was concerned about was getting to the front. She could just barely make out the platform in the shifting gaps between bodies. The half-wall at the front blocked her view of the floor, but she could see over it.

And through the gaps, she could see Zuko, on the other side of the partition, drop to his knees. Mai jumped, pushing the balls of her feet against the floor just enough to peek over the wall. He was bowed deeply. She jumped again, still pushing forward. His head was on the platform, is ponytail splayed out across the black stage. She jumped again, he was speaking.

She could hear just the dulcet undertones of his voice. But she couldn't make out what he was saying. So she imagined his dry, scratchy voice asking his father for mercy.

It was a concept the Fire Lord knew nothing about.

Mai's heart constricted in her chest and the ball of dread in her gut solidified into a tiny pinprick. It poked at her insides, and she wondered if she could bleed to death from the pain of fear. And there was something else, a dread, a terror so great that she could feel it trickling down the back of her throat. She was drowning in the gruesomeness of it all now, gasping for air as she pushed forward still.

She shoved harder and ignored the grumbling adults. The only thing that mattered was getting as close as possible. She didn't know what she was going to do. It didn't matter, in the end. She knew, even then, that it would never make a difference.

But she had to try.

Her lungs burned, and so did her eyes and nose. She could feel the tears on her cheeks, but for once, just this once, she didn't care.

_Let them come_, she thought.

She sees Zuko stand in another gap before it is gone as the mass of bodies shifts forward. Someone behind her lurches, with the wall of people pressing against their backs, and she falls.

As the people still push to get closer, eagerly licking their lips at the impending fight, Mai is thrown to the floor. Her hands hit, hard. Only a moment before her face would have. They prickle and burn and she thinks she may have broken something. But she ignores the pain, pushes past it as she crawls on her hands and knees through the forest of legs.

Her hair falls over her shoulders and her tears splash against her hands.

"He's not fighting back." She can hear a woman, or maybe a young boy whisper it.

And Mai forgets to breathe. She can feel the panic, the crazed terror inside her well up. And she allows herself one moment, one moment when she lets the fear in her stomach seep into her heart, paralyzing her arms and legs. One moment to acknowledge that she won't succeed. One moment to hate herself for not being good enough. One moment to mourn Zuko. One moment to be weak and useless.

And then, she shoves it back down, buries it deep inside. And she swears then, never to let it out again.

She starts to crawl again, ignoring the people, the voices, the tension in the room. Her hair catches on boots and buckles, and tears. But she doesn't cry, not anymore. Zuko is all that matters, getting to the wall, seeing him.

It was all she could do.

"He wouldn't." another woman whispers, or maybe it's the same one. Mai doesn't know. She doesn't care. It filters down from somewhere above her, and makes her push harder.

She pushes two pairs of legs aside and chances a glance up at the throne. It sits above the platform, and just for a second, before the gap in legs shifts and she loses sight of Azula, she can see an almost frightened look on the other girl's face.

"Let me through!" Mai barks, grabbing legs and pulling. "Move!" the look on Azula's face was worse than anything the crowd could say.

There were whispers of the Fire Lord's Wife being missing. But Mai already knew that. She knew Zuko's mom was gone. But that look, it was like Azula was scared. But about what, certainly it wasn't for Zuko? She hated Zuko. She was evil and greedy, and she wanted to be the next Fire Lord.

She must have realized what Mai already knew.

Zuko could die. More than could, there was a strong, unrelenting possibility that Zuko's father would burn him to death in front of half the Fire Nation.

And finally, _finally_ the legs parted. Like the avatar parting the sea and Mai stumbled to her feet. Her hands caught the edge of the partition as she was crushed, full force against the half-wall. The weight of the people pushing from behind was so strong, she felt as though she was being lifted from the ground, held in place by the sheer mass.

Her eyes were strained open. Zuko stood now, still pleading.

"Please, Father, I won't fight you. I didn't know. I didn't mean to disrespect you."

Mai wasn't sure if she could hear him so clearly now because she was closer, free of the crowd, or if it was because the entire population of Fire Nation that was present was silent, holding a collective breath as the Fire Lord took a fire-bending stance.

"No!" Mai screamed, but no one looked, no one noticed. "No, No! Zuko, fight!"

The Fire Lord slid back his left foot and breathed deeply.

"Run, Zuko! Run!" Her voice was a raspy whisper now. Her throat felt as though it had closed around he words. "Please." She didn't know who she was begging, or even for what.

She felt utterly worthless. Because it did no good. She couldn't help as the Fire Lord thrust out his fist and a flame, blue-hot licked through the air between father and son. Like a chasm that could never be crossed.

Mai didn't look away. She didn't close her eyes, or turn her head. It was impossible. She wanted to. She wished she could have, years later when she still woke up sweating, tears streaming down her cheeks and Zuko's name heavy on her lips. She never wanted to see it, never wanted to know what it looked like to watch a man burn.

She saw the flame envelope him, wrap around his face, like a scarf made of blue and orange. She could see the skin around his eyes bubble and crack. She could smell the burnt flesh, as he stood in the sea of flames and melted.

But strangely enough, she never heard him scream. She wasn't sure it that was because he didn't or because she was too caught up in watching it. Or maybe she had heard him cry out, but she'd repressed it. She wasn't sure, not anymore. When so many years had passed and miles stood between her and that day.

"Zuko! Zuko! Zuko!" Mai lost all sense of the arena, the crowd, the Fire Lord, reality as she watched him fall. Even then, when she was still so young, she knew she loved him.

As his limp body smashed into the platform, still smoldering and charred, she started to scramble over the wall. Kicking and screaming his name, she broke her nails and scrapped her chin trying to jump the separation.

But then there were hands on her waist, large and warm. And they were pulling her back.

"No, please! Zuko!" she begged and called again. But it did no good. The hands drew her against a body.

She trashed and bit, but still she was held tightly. It was a man, she could feel the beard on her forehead. She was tucked under his chin, against his chest. And through the panic she recognized the smell of jasmine tea.

"Shhh." The man said and patted her undone hair. "There is nothing you can do for him now, my child."

And she cried into his Fire Army robes and clung to the rough fabric. She said Zuko's name over and over, until she felt so tired she thought she might fall asleep right there, surrounded by the sweet, exotic smell of jasmine tea.

But then the man got up, still holding her, and pushed through the crowd who was still stunned in place.

"Move aside. Let me through." And he parted the crowed like the great Fire General he was. And then he spoke to her, quietly. "Mai, it's time to say goodbye."

"What?" she turned her head and could see, just barely see Zuko, lying on a white cloth. There were two water tribe slaves on either side of him. They were bending a strange kind of glowing water over him.

"Leave a scar."

Mai shuttered and clung to Iroh. Fire Lord Ozai's voice was menacing and cold.

"When they're done, take him and leave."

She could feel Iroh nod. Then she heard the sound of footsteps leading away from them to the edge of the platform. And only when they were gone, faded into the drumming of people filing from the arena did Iroh speak again.

Mai spent that time watching Zuko. The skin on his face was red and scared. And it looked distorted, stretched under the glowing water. But slowly, bit by bit, the light, smooth skin of his face was coming back. Except around his left eye which didn't seem to be getting any better.

"Mai, Zuko and I are going away." Iroh said as he gently slid her from his arms, to set foot on the platform. "You have to say goodbye."

She looked only at Zuko, lying unconscious under the water. She clenched her tiny fists and marched forward. "Zuko?" She whispered his name as she dropped to her knees beside him. His beautiful yellow eyes were closed and the entire left side of his face was still red where the flesh had burned away.

The healers were slowly replacing his face, chin, nose, an eyebrow. But they left the patch around his left eye as it was. A scar, as the Fire Lord had commanded.

And Mai made a decision then, as conscious choice, to love his scar. She didn't want to. She didn't like it, and when she looked at it, it reminded her that she wasn't fast enough, or loud enough, or brave enough to save him from this.

But she decides that she loves it like she loves Zuko, and always will.

She reaches out, and touches his hand. It's still cold, he never even fought back. And now he's going away.

Mai shakes her head, so the tears won't come. She's cried enough. She won't cry anymore. She'll be strong now; because that's the only way she can help him.

She promises herself that she'll never cry again. She'll become like stone, immoveable, displaced, detached from everything and everyone. So that one day, when Zuko asks her about his scar, she can lie and tell him that she wasn't there. He wouldn't want to have his wife live with the memory of the day he was shamed and exiled. Because he is a prince and one-day kind, and she will be his queen.

"Zuko," she calls his name and leans in, "I'll see you again."

It's a promise she makes too her-nine-year-old-self. And there is nothing in the world that can take that from her.

Then she stands and pushes past Iroh, who she can't look at, won't look at, and leaves the arena, dry-eyed and empty inside.

* * *

I just love Iroh. He's so cuddly. I just want to hug him. I bet he does smell like jasmine tea.

Oh, and one of the water tribe slaves was Katara's Mom, muhahahaha!!! J/K, J/K. I just thought that since waterbenders have the unique ability to heal, why wouldn't the Fire Nation have a few 'healer' slaves sitting around for occasions such as these?

Oh, yeah, and sorry about the shift in tenses. I don't know what's gotten into me lately. I'm all about the present tense, but sometimes I still slip into past. DEAL WITH IT, okay? Thanks ;)


End file.
